


The Art of Dating a Rich Man Snippet

by moor



Series: The Art of Dating a Rich Man [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Modern AU, Sugar Daddy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 03:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18562579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moor/pseuds/moor
Summary: For @sarcastic-mommy, @mugglemiracle and @littlebirdrobin, here you go!WARNING: THIS SNIPPET CONTAINS SPOILERS for chapters 6/7. DO NOT READ IF YOU WANT TO WAIT FOR THE FULL CHAPTERS.AN: The chapter this is pulled from may also change, in whole or in part, before I post the full chapter. Please read responsibly. ;)





	The Art of Dating a Rich Man Snippet

Thrumming with anger—worse, positively vibrating with shame and humiliation—Sakura stormed down the outer port deck towards her cabin. Struggling to swallow her rage, she felt tears sting and burn her eyes, and cursed those, too.

She had worked too hard for too long, she was not going to let one night, one interaction, ruin everything she had sacrificed, everything she had strived for, everything she had—

_—why hadn’t he defended her?—_

A hiccup rose in Sakura’s throat, and the first tear threatened to slip free.

“Sakura.”

From behind her, the soft voice sounded both foreign and familiar. There was something reassuring in its hint of concern, a hint of  _something_ just enough to slow her pace. Straightening her rounded shoulders and lifting her chin, she took a deep breath and turned.

Breathing deeply, she felt a shudder inside her chest as she came face to face with not Hashirama, but Tobirama.

 _Hashirama hadn’t even thought her worth fighting for._  
  
Her anger and anguish met in a maelstrom inside her chest.

“Don’t waste your tears on him.”

Tobirama’s no-nonsense tone was a lash across Sakura’s back.

“This is none of your business—”  
  
“Izuna is a coward and if Madara has any sense, he’ll make sure Izuna is kept very far from us for the rest of the trip. He doesn’t want any hint of impropriety for his idiot brother so close to his wedding,” said Tobirama disdainfully. “He may have thought it amusing before, but obviously he underestimated Izuna’s feelings for you. He isn’t the type to make the same mistake twice.”

It was then that Sakura noted the unusual way Tobirama held his right shoulder and arm, his hand tucked into his sport coat pocket instead of flat at his side.

Taking a slow step forward, she tilted her head to the side a moment before quickly dodging in the opposite side and raising her fist as if to punch Tobirama.

He was tall and he was quick, but Tobirama’s movement was jerky, and Sakura immediately saw the darkness already forming on Tobirama’s knuckles as she halted her punch, just in time.

Quirking a brow knowingly, Sakura lowered her fist. Tentatively she held out her hand to him, palm up.

Stillness overcame Tobirama as he watched Sakura reach for his hand when he did not offer it.

“Stubborn mule,” she muttered under her breath, delicately testing each of his fingers and knuckles. He tensed occasionally, which was the only way she was able to determine that he was truly in pain, but overall nothing seemed broken or out of alignment.

Saying nothing, Tobirama let her examine his hand.

“You could have really damaged your hand,” Sakura said after a few minutes, not looking up at him.

Watching Sakura quietly fuss over him, Tobirama relaxed under her touch. Unconsciously, the stress leaked from Sakura’s body the longer she touched and handled Tobirama’s bruised fingers.

“Thank you,” said Sakura, far calmer, several minutes later.

She looked up at Tobirama’s face and felt her lips open slightly at the softness she found in his expression. Sakura hadn’t noticed when, but at some point during their quiet tête-à-tête, Tobirama had leaned into her personal space. It was nothing inappropriate by any stretch, and a far cry from crowding her, but it was still far closer than he had ever been to her—or anyone she’d ever seen him with—before.

Sakura’s heart beat faster, her senses confused.

“Anytime,” murmured Tobirama, gently withdrawing his hand. “I’ll walk you to your room,” he said.

Nodding, Sakura’s brows knit.

To her surprise, Tobirama took half a step back and waited for Sakura.

Only once she stood at his side did they continue to the cabin she shared with Hashirama.

Her anger and hurt rose again as she thought of facing Hashirama when he returned.

“You are welcome to stay in my cabin, if you’d prefer,” offered Tobirama.

Sakura’s head snapped to the side, lightning fast.

“I will stay elsewhere,” he added.

Swallowing, Sakura watched Tobirama’s face carefully for any hint he’d deliberately phrased his offer that particularly misleading way… Then her brow furrowed as she touched the door, and she shook her head.

“Thank you, but it’s okay. I’ll take it from here. Unless I need back up,” she said, smirking at him lightly. “I know who to call.”

Tobirama waited an extra moment, but Sakura shook her head again and waved him off.

“I’ll be okay, really. Thanks, though, Tobirama. I appreciate the offer.”

He nodded and waited for her to enter her cabin before leaving for his own down the hall.

As Sakura closed the door behind her, locking it, she let her shoulders sag as she looked around the ship’s suite she shared with Hashirama.

Her eyes landed on the mirror she’d sat in front of earlier, doing her hair and makeup. The sparkle at her throat caught her attention, and she approached the mirror, noting the matching sparkles at her ears.

The necklace and earrings.

Pursing her lips, Sakura sniffed before lifting her hands to the back of her neck and undoing first the clasp, then each of her earrings. She nestled them carefully back in their boxes.

The boxes she set deliberately on Hashirama’s bedside table, not her own.

With that, she showered and dressed for bed, turning off the lamp.

She did not wait up for Hashirama.

* * *

Hashirama’s conversation with Madara had been brief and to the point. Hashirama had left without excusing himself, and knew that it would be some time before he and Madara would speak civilly again.

_Of all the foolhardy things for Tobirama to do—_

Hashirama had just about caught up to Sakura when he heard her speaking to someone around the corner of the corridor he hurried down.

 _“—your business—”_  she said angrily.

At first Hashirama was relieved that Sakura was angry rather than hurt, but then he paused to listen. The only person she’d ever been outright antagonistic towards was…

The longer Hashirama listened, the more he understood. The crows’ feet around his eyes loosened, the laugh lines around his mouth, slackened as he swallowed. The fists at his sides tightened, then released.

He chanced a quick glance around the corner of the corridor, too engrossed to be ashamed of himself, a grown man, spying on his own brother and…

…and…

Tobirama’s head was lowered. His expression gentle. He stood within easy reach of Sakura, shielding her from anyone who may chance to pass by. Protectively.

For Tobirama, it was practically indecent. It was—

It didn’t make sense, thought Hashirama. How had he never realized…

_“I’ll walk you back to your room.”_

No, thought Hashirama. No. Tobirama didn’t.   
  
He would never.

He was his own brother.

And he… he didn’t…

* * *

When Hashirama arrived back in his room, Sakura was nowhere to be found.

Looking around, he searched each room, the bathrooms, even the closets as he undid his tie, tugging his shirt free of his slacks, hurrying faster and faster. Where was she?

“Sakura?” he called.

He froze when he saw the boxes on his bedside table.

He took a step closer before his knees weakened.

Sagging onto the too-large bed, Hashirama buried his head in his hands.


End file.
